Roses Through the Frost
by miranda-in-fandomland
Summary: AU off the beginning of Thor: The Dark World When Frigga takes matters into her own hands on the matter of Loki's punishment, the disgraced prince ends up on Midgard with one task: win the heart of a mortal. He doesn't expect to succeed - and he certainly doesn't expect Darcy Lewis to show up on his doorstep. [ON HAITUS]
1. Chapter 1

Frigga had been wringing her hands raw since the moment she'd heard of their return. Thor had gone the moment they arrived, seeking solitude elsewhere, far away from the throne room and the trial of his brother. A dozen guards had gone to await their return at the Bifrost, and now a dozen returned, this time Loki accompanied them, his wrists and ankles bound in manacles. Despite the shackles, his walk was proud, and his eyes fixed ahead.

A bare minimum of words were exchanged between Frigga and her youngest son before she was dismissed. Though reluctant, she forced herself to obey. When she'd first heard of Loki's plans on Midgard and of his sentence she'd begged the All-Father to spare his life, to keep him imprisoned but alive. After much deliberation, he had agreed on one condition: she was to never visit him, never see him again. An idea grew in her mind from that moment, an idea that became a plan set in motion. A second – and final- chance that neither Odin nor Thor had conceived. It would not be easy, nor would it please Odin, but she'd rather ask the forgiveness of him than allow her son to spend his life in a prison cell when she might have had the mind to change that fate. Her defiance and determination had won out over her loyalty and obedience, as it had many times before.

Now was the time to act, for the final pieces to fall into place. She only hoped that her efforts were not going to be in vain.

/

The dungeons of Asgard were located deep under the main golden halls of the palace. Many prisoners down there had long forgotten the feel of the sun and sight of the sky. A dank stone staircase led to rows of sterile white prison cells, one after the other. They were homes to criminals of the Nine Realms, and as Loki was lead down the hall towards and empty cell, the rats peered out of their cages, their jeers and laughter not going unnoticed.

Hands clenched into fists, Loki resisted the urge to claw and scratch at the manacles around his wrists, to break free and tear apart everything in sight. Rage filled him as never before, to be sentenced to be buried beneath Asgard's walls, to be hidden away and forgotten for eternity. Being granted death at least would have held some pride, but this - this was humiliating.

The prison cell that would while away eternity in stood before him, the transparent walls around it disbanded. The guard behind him gave a hard push, and he was in the cell – except he wasn't. Between one footstep and the next, the stark white walls of the cell turned to the golden room of the Bifrost Observatory. Heimdall stood, as he always had, immobile at the helm; and beside him…

"Mother," Loki said, though Frigga had already started towards him, her eyes steely with determination. "What are you-"

"There's no time to explain now." She said, hurriedly removing the cuffs from his wrists. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought that she was helping him escape, until Frigga's hands grasped his wrists, and he felt a sudden stinging pain in them. The feeling of magic that he'd felt all his life suddenly dimmed, was stifled. Loki jerked back, realizing what had happened – two silver bracelets, hair-thin and near invisible, had been placed on his wrists, diminishing his magic greatly.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked again, only any light curiosity had gone from his voice.

"Helping you." Was all Frigga said, before she nodded to Heimdall. The last thing Loki saw was Frigga giving him a smile that did not reach her eyes, before the Bifrost jerked him away and into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki had always hated traveling by Bifrost, especially more so now. The feeling of every part of him being torn apart, hurled through the void and then pieced back together, his feet suddenly slamming into the ground beneath him as he reached the destination, and finally the moment of confusion as he got his bearings after landing. This time was no different.

With sickening twist in the pit of his stomach, Loki realized he was that he was back on Midgard. He didn't know where, but evidently a long way from New York. His surroundings were rural forest rather than monumental grey buildings, and the air was clear and pure. It was night, and the dark was illuminated by the moon above. The forest was divided by a path of stones, a path that led to a gate, iron and twisted. Beyond that a castle loomed, dark and gnarled. Loki knew that there were many of these sorts of dwellings strewn about Midgard – carelessly abandoned and left for the elements to destroy. This one however looked almost pristine. The windows were unbroken, the towers still standing tall, and the stones were strong and whole.

Through the gate, Loki made his way up the path and towards the front doors. His curiosity grew, as well as his caution. It was no random coincidence that he arrived here, that much was confirmed as the doors unlocked and opened at the barest touch of his fingers. The entrance hall was immaculate on its own, dark marble columns on each side leading to a grand staircase. Every door opened seemed to lead to more halls and more rooms. A grand dining room with a fire place taking up an entire wall, a dozen or more bedrooms, and a library that's bookshelves seemed to stretch on endlessly. Every room was decorated in gold and silver and velvets, and Loki wanted to set it all aflame. To be placed back on the realm he despised so much, and to what? Find somebody, as Frigga had so indistinguishably instructed?

The only room that seemed to hold any answers was the top room of the West tower, up several staircases and behind a heavy mahogany door. The room was much more to his tastes; isolated, dark curtains blocking out any light from the windows, green and gold fabrics decorating the bed, chairs and walls. In the center of the room was a pillar, made entirely out of glass, clear and empty save for one single rose, fully bloomed and blood red.

"It's an hourglass", a voice suddenly explains. Loki spun around to find a full-length mirror, heavy and framed with mahogany. Only it didn't show his reflection; instead it showed Frigga.

"Why have you brought me here?" Loki inquired, striding towards the mirror, his voice low with anger. "Leaving me in this realm, placing me here, to what end are you hoping for?"

Frigga calm demeanour did not waver through the onslaught of questions, which only infuriated Loki even further.

"I was merely hoping, since you find mortals so inferior, this realm would do you some good. I though perhaps you might even come to care for somebody here."

"Like Thor did." Loki summarized, giving a humourless laugh. "So you sprung me from my cage because you think just because that brute lowered himself to be with a mortal you feel I would do the same?" he said, his voice rising and echoing off the stone walls.

"I think if you were to ask the guards, they would confirm your imprisonment." So, simple illusions spell. That's why no one had come searching for him yet. "I am only trying to help." Frigga said, her voice unwaveringly steady.

"Well I did not ask for it!" Loki screamed at the mirror, rage breaking through. Frigga was silent for a moment, evaluating, before finally responding.

"And yet you still have it. If you ever need council, do not hesitate to ask." Was all she said, before the image shimmered and the mirror returned to normal. Hands shaking with anger, Loki picked up the first thing within reach – an ornate box – and hurled it as hard as he could at the mirror. The box broke into splinters and fell to the floor, but the mirror remained completely intact.

/

The days came and went as slow as the hands on a broken clock. After a time the stone walls of the fortress became all too stifling, and with caution Loki ventured to the grounds outside. It would seem that isolation had been provided as well as shelter. The forest around him was dense, with no other homes to be found. It was a beautiful place, he would admit – for it being Midgard. A lake only a mile or two away proved to be a particularly comforting place when the stone walls of the castle threatened to drive him mad. His dwellings brought on a strange sort of sorrow; a homesickness for a home that never was that infuriated him and desolated him at the same time.

In a moment of weakness one day, Loki made the discovery that though his magic had been stifled, it had not been altogether snuffed out. He could achieve the simplest of things – repairing broken objects, making incorporeal duplicates of himself – though they were the bare basics, it was better than nothing. That small flicker of light had gone out as soon as it had started. Only a moment after making the discovery, Loki watched as his skin turned from ivory to cobalt as his Jotun form broke through. The final breaking point had been reached, and by the time the sun set no mirror in the castle had been unbroken, save for one. The one in the west tower seemed truly unbreakable, much to Loki's fury. Frigga continued to visit, but he only spoke to her through projections of himself in his Asire form, never his true Jotun form. He stole away in the shadows, creeping in the darkness and closing himself more and more away from the sunlight each day. Night time was the only time he ever chose to wander outside the castle walls, like a wraith in the darkness. He found it appropriate.

/

One night Loki received a surprise; instead of Frigga visiting him through the mirror, it was Thor. Rage that had dissipated over the few previous days returned threefold at an instant.

"Thor," he spit at the mirror, his true self hidden away in the shadows and a simple projection taking his place in front of the mirror. "to what do I owe this pleasure? Come to mock have you?"

"I've come to offer help," Thor replied, ignoring Loki's biting ton. "whether or not you'll have it."

"Help?" Loki all but snarled. "With what? Falling in love with a mortal? Becoming soft and _pathetic like you!?_" he replied, his voice rising to a scream that echoed off the enclosed walls. Thor remained silent, unwavering and his face unreadable, making the already boiling anger in Loki's veins spike even higher.

"I don't want your help." He bit out, before casting a curtain over the mirror, hiding himself from the only face he had for company. The doppelganger vanished, leaving Loki completely alone, hidden in the shadows. Suddenly, every moment that has lead to here rushes at him, and within a matter of moments nearly everything in the room is smashed to bits. He resorts to repairing things with magic just to break them again and again. He stalked through the hallways, destroying everything until his hands refuse to work anymore.

He collapsed to the floor, back to the wall, and in a final absolve of anger, screamed. The sound echoed off the empty walls, feral and maddening. Loki was suddenly thankful that he'd broken all the mirrors to be found. He could only imagine his appearance. Clothes all but tarnished completely, unkept, monstrous and hopeless. A year on Earth and then back to Asgard's cells; a year of solitude in this place would surely drive him mad. Perhaps he would wander further outside the walls, and if fate would be kind he'd-

Through the darkness came a noise, so soft Loki swore he imagined it, but it came again. Louder this time, more urgent. A series of four low thuds.

Somebody was knocking on the front doors.


End file.
